


Tuck Box

by fawatson



Category: The Charioteer - Mary Renault
Genre: Backstory, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 07:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1974465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/pseuds/fawatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a rainy afternoon at school the arrival of a parcel from home is very welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tuck Box

**Author's Note:**

> **Originally posted to:** maryrenaultfics at LiveJournal on 04/09/2011  
>  **Originally written for:** Early Autumn Challenge   
> **Prompt** : Back to School  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters and make no profit from them.   
> **Author’s Notes:** I have envisaged this scene as taking place after Laurie has been to school for at least a year but while he is still in the lower school, and would not yet have been assigned a study.

Carter, Harris, and the others crowded round as Odell brought the parcel back to the common room. It had been a completely horrible Saturday to that point. The morning had begun with drizzle. Not that that had stopped Coach, who had insisted a little rain wouldn’t hurt. They had slid round the rugby field until the drizzle had turned to a steady downpour, at which point even Coach had agreed it was too much. Cold, miserably sodden lads had rushed quickly to their lockers for dry clothes, then retreated to common rooms and dormitories. 

But what to do then? It was sufficiently late in term that most had read the novels and Boy's Own magazines they had brought with them from home. Had it been a fine day, some would have gone off exploring. But Autumn had set in with a vengeance this weekend, and few fancied the idea, even those inveterate bug-hunters who were normally keen on collecting new specimens for their collections. Some boys had been taken by Mr Stuart for extra prep; Odell had been relieved to hear his mark on the latest maths test had been just high enough to let him off that. The chess club – at the Head’s suggestion – had set up an impromptu tournament in the dining hall, and had attracted the attention of others from the junior common. (It has to be acknowledged that had they not been quite so bored it probably would have been considered a very dull suggestion indeed; lacking anything better, however, they had allowed themselves to be persuaded to give it a go.) Odell had been introduced to chess by Great Uncle Edward two summers before; it didn’t appeal. 

Thus he – along with several others – remained in the common room, at a loss for what to do, until the Porter delivered the post. There had been the usual letter from Mother. Normally he would have read it straight away, but the news a parcel was awaiting him at the Porter’s Lodge, meant he had tucked it into his pocket, and rushed out. Parcels from home meant toffee from Mrs Timmins! Last week he’d finished the last of the sweets he’d brought in his tuck box at the beginning of term, and the lack of sugar was beginning to tell (school puddings were distinctly more stodgy than sweet). To his amazement the parcel was a wooden box and looked professionally wrapped. There was lettering on the side of the box: Fortnum & Mason. It was heavy and he struggled a bit on the stairs, getting it back to the common. 

It took two boys working in tandem to prise the lid off the box. The honour of unpacking the contents was left to Odell; but his audience stood round with eager anticipation. Packing straw was pulled away to reveal... oh! An incoherent yet satisfied collective noise went round the boys who were left in the common room that afternoon. It was a veritable feast: jars of pilchards, a small round of cheddar (and another of stilton), jars of marmalade and jam, fruit cake decorated with whole almonds on top, shortbread, a large tin of Peak Frean’s biscuits and another, even larger selection, of Jacob’s crackers, along with whipped cream bon-bons and Roses chocolates. 

“Cocoa!” exclaimed Harris, breaking discipline and reaching past Odell to claim the tin. 

“We’ll have a feast!” shouted Carter. 

There was a bit of a scramble as, like descending locusts, the rest dived in, selecting items and setting them out on the common room table. Harris took it upon himself to go to the kitchen to wheedle some milk from Cook to add to the cocoa. Laurie put the marmalade, jam, bon-bons and chocolates into his no longer empty tuck box, to be relished later. He accepted the box would be shared. Last week Jones had been the lucky one to get a parcel from home; and everyone had enjoyed its largess. This week it was his turn. 

At the bottom of this parcel, however, he found, not more packing straw, but two long flat boxes, and a short note. It was from Great Uncle Edward. 

“Dear Laurie”, it began. “I well remember how dull some Sunday afternoons could be at school, particularly if it rained. I never could interest you in chess; perhaps draughts or backgammon would be more to your liking.”

“Hurrah!” Odell shouted to all at large, “look here at what _I’ve_ got!” And he held the games up above his head for all to see.


End file.
